


Invoke, Conjure and Command

by Shadow_Of_Castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm, Painplay, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-13
Updated: 2010-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:38:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Of_Castiel/pseuds/Shadow_Of_Castiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets off from being held down and cut by Castiel during a summoning spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invoke, Conjure and Command

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spnkink_meme prompt -
> 
> Cas needs to so some sort of summoning spell, and he needs to draw intricate designs in human flesh to make it work. Dean is hesitant at first, but then Cas pushes him down and makes the first cut and it feels good.
> 
> Dean stretched out on the bed with Cas straddling him, cutting little lines and shapes into him with a tiny knife. Bonus points for Dean getting off only from the pain and being help down.

“Dude, seriously? Why me?” Dean asked, standing a little way away from Castiel and eyeing him dubiously.

“I told you,” Castiel replied, patient tone holding a slight undercurrent of irritation that wasn’t usually there or quite as noticeable. “In order for this summoning ritual to work, I need to draw sigils in human flesh. You are the only human I know and trust. I don’t feel as though I could ask Bobby and I can’t ask Sam. I don’t trust your brother and it is for him that I’m even attempting this spell at all.”

“I know,” Dean said, wearily, shoulders sagging in defeat as he started to accept the angel’s words.

“I ask again, Dean. Do you not trust me?” Castiel asked, drawing nearer, dark blue eyes intent upon the hunter’s.

Dean met and held the angel’s gaze, knowing the answer before he even spoke it.

“You know I do,” the hunter said, quietly, without pre-amble. “You’re the only one I do fully trust.”

“Even over Bobby? Sam?” Castiel asked, needing to hear the answer despite already knowing it.

“Even over Bobby and Sam,” Dean confirmed as he watched Castiel crowding closer still. “Especially Sam.”

The hunter’s shoulders sagged further still with this last admission,. as though finally speaking it aloud had taken something from him, when addressing his fears with his lover.

“For the record, Dean. I don’t trust your brother, either,” Castiel said, gently as he stared at Dean, plump lips parting as his breath huffed and whuffled against Dean’s cheek.

Dean didn’t reply; instead he gave the angel a tight little smile and a brief nod of his head to denote his acceptance of the angel’s words and as yet unspoken support.

“I am doing this for you, Dean, not Sam,” Castiel said, gently. “Or rather more for you than Sam. You want your brother back, don’t you?”

Dean gave Castiel a half hearted smile but didn't reply immediately. Instead he cast his gaze to the ceiling as he thought, gaze skittering over the many cracks and concaves in the plasterwork above him, before he looked back at Castiel again. The angel was still staring at him, gaze patient and non-judgemental, assessing every last move that Dean made as though searching for answers.

“Sure, I want Sam back, as he used to be,” Dean confirmed, with a tight smile. “And thanks sweetheart, for doing this.”

“You’re welcome. Now are you going to let me do this or not?” Castiel asked, gaze staring down pointedly at Dean’s still covered torso, almost hungrily.

Dean could feel the tension in the air thick between them, as much from himself as from Castiel. He knew that under any other circumstances, they would be making love, yet he knew that this time wasn’t the time for that. The summoning spell that Castiel needed to do to return Sam’s soul to his body required the angel to carve sigils into human flesh and Dean was the only one that Castiel wanted to ask to participate. The angel had earlier posited that it would be more successful if Dean was involved, that the blood of a family member used in conjunction with carved flesh and symbolic ritual would, in a way, help to save his brother.

“Are you sure that Crowley will come?” Dean asked again, despite having asked the same question perhaps a dozen times before.

“I am not certain, bit it would be very hard for the demon to not acknowledge my call,” Castiel replied, for the dozen time. “Blood work is among the most powerful spells that could be performed.”

Dean stared at the floor for a moment, scuffing the toe of one scuffed boot against the worn carpet, before he nodded slowly at his lover. His hands rose and fingered the hem of his shirt, before rising to pull it from his shoulders and tossing it aside. He grabbed the hem of his t shirt in determination before pulling it roughly over his head and tossing that aside too. His gaze rose to meet Castiel’s, who was staring at Dean’s well muscled torso hungrily and the angel stepped a little closer.

Dean noticed for the first time the light that glinted form the angel’s knife held in one slender hand and he shuddered, imagining the slice of metal into flesh, the well of blood red against tanned skin and he stepped away involuntarily, trying to catch his breath past the mixed fear and arousal that clogged his airways. When Castiel made a move to close the distance between them again, Dean waved him away, giving his lover a slightly pained smile.

“Give me a minute, okay?” he asked, raising his hand again when the angel stepped closer still, a determined light in Castiel’s blue on blue eyes.

“No, Dean,” Castiel ordered, voice harsh as he pushed Dean down upon the bed behind the hunter, slender hand rising and falling as he pushed his lover down. “We need to do this now.”

The hunter fell, sprawled against the bed and flopped unceremoniously across the mattress, barely having enough time to adjust to his new position before Castiel was straddling him, fully clothed and heavy against his hips. Dean grunted and could do nothing but watch as the blade arched over his head and descended, digging sharply into the thick muscles of his chest. Castiel’s tongue peeked from between plush lips as he carved sigils into Dean’s body, Enochian words punctuating the silence thick between them.

Dean writhed slightly beneath the sharp pain that radiated from his chest, moving downwards as Castiel carved more sigils into the soft flesh of his abdomen. The hunter moaned, more from arousal than pain, as the cuts carved into his skin, drawing blood and leaving tickling sensations of pain through his system. His chest rose and fell with harsh, aroused breathing, enjoying the feel and the sensations of blade against skin, metal against flesh and he cried out involuntarily, lust clear in the set of his voice. A shudder worked through him and he felt the first coiling blasts of an orgasm bunched behind his navel, intensifying with the thought and realization that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t get away. The weight of Castiel against his hips prevented any kind of escape or movement, as the angel was surprisingly heavy for one so seemingly slight and slender.

Castiel watched him, plush lips forming a pout as his lover slowly came undone beneath him, cheeks flushed with aroused fervor and the angel smiled in between the Enochian chanted words. He had barely finished carving into Dean’s abdomen when the hunter came, hips rising as much as Castiel’s weight would let them, cum splashing from his dick and into his boxers, staining the material in thick wet swathes. Dean wailed Castiel’s name, body vibrating with residual want, need, arousal as he slowly relaxed against the bed.

He was vaguely aware of Crowley’s deep voice nearby, that familiar London accent exchanging harsh words with Castiel and the vague stench of sulfur permeating the air around the demon and newly proclaimed King of Hell. Voices rose and the crackle of power surged through the room as demon and angel argued, the dark wash from Crowley and the pure brightness from Castiel. Then, Crowley disappeared, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

“Dean, look at me,” Castiel commanded, when the hunter remained laying listlessly upon the bed, weary and sated from his ill-timed orgasm.

The hunter looked up and over at his lover and smiled at the angel, sated weariness brightening his smile and misting his eyes.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean asked, as he blinked up at the angel looming over him from where he stood by the side of the bed.

“Crowley refuses to help,” Castiel replied, with a small pout of thin lipped disapproval over the demon’s refusal to help. “He says that he needs to keep Sam’s soul locked up for a while longer.”

“Wait, what? Why?” Dean asked, finally sitting up and wincing at the rivulets of pain shooting through his body from his many wounds.

Castiel frowned down at him. before he pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead and cleaned him of all his welts and sigils with a thought and a blink. Dean barely noticed, staring up at Castiel as he was, begging with his eyes for answers.

“Cas? Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what he said,” the hunter demanded, rather than asked.

“Crowley says he’ll only give Sam his soul back when he’s overtaken Purgatory and not before,” Castiel said, shoulders slumping a fraction as he took a seat on the bed opposite his lover. “We knew this already, Dean, but I thought the blood spell would force Crowley to do what we want. I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“You tried, Cas,” Dean said, after a brief pause. “We’ll get Crowley somehow, don’t worry. And when we do, I’ll give that smug son of a bitch what’s coming to him twice over.”

“I will help,” Castiel demurred, with a brief nod of support at Dean.

“I know you will. You always do,” Dean said, with a tight smile. “Just about the only one who always does.”

“That is my responsibility, Dean. You are my charge and my lover, after all,” Castiel replied, with another slow nod.

Dean stared at him for a time, before he gave Castiel a more genuine smile, reaching to take the angel’s hand tenderly. Castiel looked down at Dean’s fingers curled about his own before he squeezed Dean’s hand in support.

“Not so damn tight, Cas. You forget your own strength sometimes,” Dean said, with a wince.

“My apologies,” Castiel apologized before loosening his grip and stroking his fingers over Dean’s bruised flesh.

“Hey, think you could carve some more of those sigils into me, again?” Dean suddenly asked, hopefully.

“And what sort of spell would you like me to work this time, Dean?” Castiel questioned, head tilted to the side.

“No spell,” Dean replied. “I ... kinda liked it when you carved into me, is all.”

“Ah. It was a turn-on,” Castiel stated, with a nod of approval.

“Yeah, the hell it was,” Dean said, with a misty eyed grin of remembrance.

“As you wish,” Castiel replied. “Lay down.”

The hunter complied eagerly, and settled down to wait before Castiel began to carve into Dean’s flesh again, words of love this time, and passion and ownership of the hunter’s heart and body. When Dean came, the hunter experienced an even more intense orgasm than he had the first time, climax fuelled by Castiel’s love and watchfulness over him. He lay there, heaving for breath as Castiel unzipped his pants and eased his hard dick out from his boxers.

“Open your mouth, Dean,” Castiel commanded and waited until the hunter did as he’d asked.

The angel shifted his weight further up the bed, and slid his dick between Dean’s parted lips, smiling when Dean started sucking on him eagerly. Castiel watched as his lover’s head bobbed between his legs, lips and tongue moving in slick wet stripes against his throbbing shaft and he came, flooding Dean’s mouth with thick spurts of his cum. Dean swallowed as much as he could before easing away, tongue lapping at Castiel’s softening member to clean his lover off. Castiel waited, before tucking himself back into his boxers and zipping his pants closed. He laid besinde Dean and waited for the hunter to lay close against his side, arm draped over his narrow waist tenderly.

“We’ll get Sam’s soul back. I promise you that," Castiel assured Dean, stolidly.

“I believe you,” Dean replied, and he was surprised to find that he did.

Unlike so many others in his life, Castiel had never lied to Dean, had never done anything to harm him, after all.

~fini~


End file.
